Philip Lombard : We've gotten off on the wrong foot, haven't we? But you do have very pretty legs. It would have been remiss not to stare at them.
Emily Brent : I'm not at all sure about these, they look very... pagan.
Vera Claythorne : They're the Ten Little Soldier Boys, you know, from the poem.
General John MacArthur : Ah yes, I know it off by heart. My nanny used to recite it to me when I was a little boy, to terrify me into being good. I imagine I was a rather dull boy.
Emily Brent : I can't imagine that, General, but you shouldn't call it a poem Miss Claythorne, it's a doggerel. Poetry should be uplifting.
Detective Sergeant William Blore : I agree with you Miss Brent.
Emily Brent : Well, that goes to show how wrong first impressions are. I didn't imagine you as a gentleman to appreciate poetry.
Philip Lombard : Mr. Davis has hidden depths.
Anthony Marston : What are they playing at, huh?
Anthony Marston : What the hell are they playing at, your pals, the Owens?
Philip Lombard : Calm down Marston, he doesn't even know them. He's not even Davis.
Detective Sergeant William Blore : I'm Blore. Detective Sergeant. How did you know?
Philip Lombard : Instinct.
Thomas Rogers : Ah sir, you're ready sooner than we anticipated.
Philip Lombard : What's up there?
Thomas Rogers : Just roof space sir. Ah sir, we've been advised the floor isn't particularly sturdy up there. Lest you should make an unexpected entrance into one of the guest bedrooms, by way of the ceiling?